


Either/Or: A Coming Out Story

by Muffinatrix



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Absent Parents, Canon Compliant, Childbirth, Gen, Invasion of Privacy, Pregnancy, internalized transphobia and cisnormativity, references to sexual relations and specific genitalia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:01:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22836706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muffinatrix/pseuds/Muffinatrix
Summary: Toph never really thought about gender, but her friends won’t let up about it.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 44





	Either/Or: A Coming Out Story

“So, is it a boy or a girl?”

Cranefish Town’s metalbending teacher sits slumped back in a hospital bed, holding a suckling baby in her arms. She’s already annoyed by the wood and fabric keeping her away from any earth. Being pressed for details annoys her even more.

“How the hell should I know?”

Being a close friend to the Avatar had landed her with the best doctors in town, but still she dismissed them all and blocked the door with a wall of rock, impassable except for the hole she purposely left, too small for the doctors to crawl through, but big enough for her skinny friend.

“Toph, you didn’t let them at least check that it’s healthy? Here, let me get it in some water.”

Toph grows a scowl, though technically she’s scowling at her own baby.

“No. We’re breathing, we’re having breakfast, everything’s fine.”

She drops one leg off the bed, trying to find some earth. Her friend drops the issue. She’s learned to tell when arguing with Toph won’t be worth it.

“Where’s Kanto?”

Exhaustion catches up with Toph, and she falls back into her pillow, still missing her seismic sense.

She speaks in a flat tone. “It didn’t work out. Don’t touch my kid.”

A chair squeaks against the ceramic floor.

“Wait, does he not know that he’s a father?”

Toph raises her voice at the ceiling. “He’s NOT a father! He left me while I was pregnant. That’s his choice.”

Once again, it’s not a good time to argue with Toph, so her friend changes the subject again.

“Can I just check the sex real quick?”

The voice is uncomfortably close, so Toph swats her friend’s hand away, though only her pinky connects. _Damn wooden bed._

“What’s the big secret that you sighted people won’t tell me about? Is everyone born with a tattoo or something that spells out the word ‘man’ or ‘woman’?”

Her friend’s voice comes from over the chair again. “No, there’s no secret tattoo. Did your parents never…?”

The baby finishes suckling, and Toph drops her shirt. “No, they never explained how they knew I was a girl. They didn’t exactly trust their helpless, blind kid to know things.”

Her friend wasn’t prepared to have this conversation with a grown woman, a new mother no less, but apparently it has to be done.

“Well, when a baby is born, the midwife, or the doctor, or whatever, they look down, below the belly…” She sighs. “The genitals, Toph. They check whether the baby has a penis or a vagina. That’s how they know.”

Toph sits quietly, waiting for more information. When it doesn’t come, she speaks up. “That’s a lie.”

Her friend is annoyed, but tries to mask it under her nurturing mother voice. “I’m not lying. I did it all the time–”

“Yes you are!”

“That’s how it’s been done since before you and I were born.”

Toph makes a sound somewhere between a sigh and a groan. She would roll her eyes if she remembered how.

“I guess you’re a man, then, since you have what men usually have.”

Her friend protests. “What!? No I’m not! How would you know what I ‘have’ anyway?”

Toph laughs. “I know what everyone’s genitals look like. Yours, for example, are on the larger side. I’m surprised Twinkle Toes can handle it.”

Her friend grows silent, except for some shuffling in her seat.

“Unless that’s changed in the last few months, in which case I’ll find out when I finally get my damn feet on the fucking ground.”

Her friend has shrunk into herself, and speaks meekly toward the floor. “Maybe you shouldn’t swear in front of the baby. And no, Aang and I are still planning to have another kid.”

Toph speaks matter-of-factly. “You want to control what words your kid is allowed to hear, fine, but I’ll do whatever the fuck I feel like with mine.” She continues more quietly, as though speaking more to herself than anyone else. “Pfft. It’s not like I said a slur.”

Her friend pleads with her, still sounding meek. “Please don’t tell anyone. Promise me.”

Toph promises, in her unique Toph way. “Like I give a shit what you have between your legs.”

* * *

“Watch out, Bumi, you’re going so fast!” The airbender Avatar is chasing his toddler around their home on Air Temple Island. Bumi is enjoying the sport of outrunning his father. _Geez, wait ‘til this kid starts bending._

“Aang, could you help me clean up?” His wife picks up a plate of her son’s half-finished dinner.

“In a minute, sweetie. I’m beginning to think ‘childproof’ doesn’t necessarily mean ‘Bumi-proof’.” He’s a rambunctious kid, much like his namesake. _Lucky guess, I suppose._

Before he’s done talking, there’s a knock on the door, along with frantic yelling coming from behind it. “Help! Heeelp!”

Aang catches and picks up Bumi, who then tries to climb onto his father’s head. Aang answers the door.

In front of him stands an armor-clad Toph Beifong, holding her loudly crying infant child. Her hair is disheveled in seven different directions, despite still being held together by her signature band.

“Twinkle Toes! Thank fuck, I didn’t know where else to turn.”

He lets the nickname and the swearing in front of his child slide, given the urgent tone of her voice. “What’s going on, Toph? Is someone in danger?”

“No– maybe– somewhere, probably, Ho Tun can handle it. Just help me with this baby!” She holds the baby out in front of her in an inappropriate, though not _entirely_ dangerous fashion. “It’s been crying for two hours. I’ve tried feeding it, burping it, bouncing it, cooing it to sleep, everything, it won’t stop crying! At one point I even tried bribing it with money. That didn’t work either. Everything is not fine! Please help me!”

Katara pulls her son off of Aang’s head, having snuck up from behind, freeing up Aang to take Toph’s baby. He gestures with his stance. “Come in, have a seat.”

Toph takes a step inside, but reels back from the wooden floor. “Actually, could you two come out? I can’t see in there.”

Katara speaks softly into her husband’s ear. “Sweetie, you should talk to her. I’ll deal with the kids.” He turns his head to her in protest. “But Katara–” She insists. “I’ll handle the children and the cleanup. You can make it up to me later.” She pecks him on the cheek. “Okay, thank you sweetie. I love you.” He carefully hands her the baby, and steps outside. “Love you t–ach! Bumi! Not the hair loops!”

As the sound of crying baby fades behind a closing door, its mother grows quiet, worries running through her mind. She never stopped to ask herself who she trusts alone with her baby. Katara won't accidentally kill it at least, that's a relief; but shouldn't she be able to handle this on her own?

Aang walks with her toward the island’s meditation circle. “Let’s just ground ourselves for a minute. So you’re a mother now, and, uh, what’s your kid’s name again?” She gives him a subtle shrug. “I don’t know yet. Kid hasn’t told me.” Aang stops in his tracks, and Toph stops a moment later. “Toph, I know where you’re coming from, but don’t you think that’s a little extreme?”

She scoffs at him. “Fine, I’ll name it after one of my students, Moo Chee Goo Chee La Poo Chee. He doesn’t want the name anyway. Now did you come out here to lecture me, or help me?” _Point taken._ Aang starts walking again. “Alright, let’s start with something simple: Is it a boy or a girl?”

Toph throws her hands up. “I don’t know! Nobody will tell me! And when I ask how I can figure it out, nobody will tell me that either!” Aang curses himself for forgetting. “Oh, right, Katara told me you were… stressed.” The actual word was more harsh, but she doesn’t care enough to call him on it.

The two arrive at the meditation circle, and Aang sits down in the lotus position. “I understand wanting to keep things private. When I– er, when Katara gave birth to Bumi, we were scared too, but–”

Toph interrupts him. “Ugh, not this gemsbok bullshit again. I thought at least a goody-two-shoes like you could be honest with me.” Aang goes quiet for a moment. _She won’t be happy about this, but there’s no point in lying to a truth seer._ He speaks quietly, as if one of the air acolytes could be listening in, although there are none in sight. “Katara didn’t want anyone to know.”

Accepting this peace offering, Toph sits down facing Aang. She speaks more calmly. “It’s not a matter of privacy. I really don’t know. Just another one of the many things I can’t see.” Aang rubs the back of his head. “Ah, well, not really.” He takes a deep breath. “Look, I can tell the father’s not in the picture, and I’m not suggesting you reconnect with him, but you do need help, from someone. That goes double if you’re on-board with that police idea. Let me help you.”

Toph leans back, bending her armor in place to not fall over. “The answer is still ‘I’ll think about it.’” Aang nods. “I appreciate that. Uh, let me ask you this: How do you know you’re a woman?” Toph answers flatly. “My parents told me.” Aang puts a thumb to his chin. “Okay, but they also said you were a helpless child who needs protecting. How do you know they were right that time?” Toph shrugs unsubtly, still suspended in her armor. “A bunch of other people have said it too, and none of them were lying.”

Aang clasps his hands together and leans in. “Toph, gender isn’t something other people can decide for you. Even if they’re not lying, they could still be mistaken. You have to determine the truth for yourself.” She flicks her armor back into sitting straight. “What the hell is a gender?”

Aang stretches his arms out, hands still together. “Well, my wife can probably explain it better, but I guess I’d say it’s your internal sense of how you see yourself, in terms of, you know, man or woman, whether you want people to call you he or she, sir or ma’am, that sort of thing.”

Toph crosses her arms. “I don’t care. That sounds like a bunch of nonsense. I don’t think I have one of those.”


End file.
